


If You Love Someone

by negasonicteenageimagines (nostalgicstrawberry)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Ellie Being an Emotionally Repressed Loser (Again), Ellie Can't Express Her Emotions for Shit, Ellie is Depressed, F/F, If You Love Someone by The Veronicas, Reader Goes Undercover, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicstrawberry/pseuds/negasonicteenageimagines
Summary: You and Ellie have been dating for a while, but she’s still shy when it comes to expressing her feelings for you. However, when you have to join the Brotherhood undercover, Ellie realizes just how much she cares.





	If You Love Someone

Ellie hadn’t been dating you for that long, but she was head over heels. It’s hard, though, to express that. She only really feels comfortable expressing anger,  _annoyance_. Rolling her eyes at your sweet words but squeezing your hand tighter, looking down so no one sees her blush. It makes her feel bad to watch your face fall when you think she doesn’t approve, but she tries to make it up to you in little ways, picking pretty wildflowers for you when she sees them and sending you songs that remind her of you.

She comes from photography club to your shared dorm, so the two of you can walk to dinner together, and she finds you packing a bag.

“Where are  _you_  going?” It comes out more rude than it should, her brain stopping her from sounding too attached, too clingy, too in love.

“Mission!” You reply cheerily. “Undercover. Gotta join the Brotherhood and see what their next move is.”

“The Brotherhood?!” Ellie squeaks, there was no hiding her worry with that one.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, isn’t it?” you tease her, unsure of the emotion you’re seeing in her reaction.

“It is,” Ellie admits. “Uh, how long?”

“I don’t know. Couple weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer. Depends on how long it takes to earn their trust and find out their next step or two,” you explain, looking too okay with this. Did you not feel the same connection to Ellie, the same need to be around her?

Ellie’s breath halts. A _month_  without you? Possibly longer?

“That’s a while.”

“I guess,” you reply, and the expression that flickers across your face helps her realize what’s going on.

She wishes her mouth would move, to tell you she’ll miss you. That she loves you, too. To tell you that she’s sorry that you don’t know those things for sure.

“We’re gonna be late for dinner,” she instead tells you.

“It’s that time already?” You ask, and she nods curtly.

You walk to dinner together in awkward silence, sitting across from each other while you eat but avoiding eye contact.

On the day you left, you didn’t even look like you. Your hair was styled differently, your makeup (if you wear it) making you appear almost like a stranger. Your clothes were closer in genre to hers, your face darkened in expression to add to the betrayed character you portray.

“I hate you, Charles Xavier!” You shout at the top of your lungs, stomping out of the mansion with bags on your shoulders. Ellie stares out the front door what feels like forever, until a gloved hand she faintly recognizes as Anna’s pulls her further in the house, another student closing the door behind you as you disappear down the driveway, angry swagger still in motion.

_I love you._  But the words don’t come out.

A few days later, Xavier informs the school of a planned attack from the Brotherhood. After, Ellie slinks over to his chair, moving from shadow to shadow. She’s isolated herself even further, rarely looking up from her phone.

“Our correspondence is limited, Miss Phimister,” Charles tells her before she can even ask. “But Y/N told me to tell you they love you.”

Somehow, that makes it worse. She didn’t say those words to you when she had the opportunity, and now she may never get to. But, hey, at least those would your last words to her?

_No! They can’t be. They won’t._  Ellie has to tell you.

She trains non-stop over the weeks, for the fight. Just because the school knew of the attack, didn’t meant that it wasn’t still going to happen. The plan was that someone would pretend to knock you out, and they’d take you back. It couldn’t be her, she wouldn’t be able to fake hatred for you.

In the nights, she doesn’t sleep. The two of you had been roommates, and without you in her arms, it’s hard.

Her appetite joins her sleep in the list of things you inadvertently took when you left. All she can think of when she sits in her usual lunch spot is how you’re not there with her, making some shitpost-esque joke she’d pretend she didn’t find absolutely hilarious. Not nagging her about her grade in American Lit, not begging her to play a card game, not there. You might never be there again. And she’ll never have admitted that she loves you more than she’s loved anyone else.

She hasn’t felt this alone since… Since…  _Since before she knew you._

She’s sitting at the desk in you two’s room, unable to focus on her Biology homework when the alarm goes off. For once, she’s excited at the possibility of an attack on the house.

That’s exactly what it is. Kids in dark clothes like her own storm the place, and she and her classmates clash against them. Pent-up emotion sweeps into her fighting, making her a brutal force.

Someone touches at her shoulder, and she turns, ready to deliver the next blow. It’s you. Her fist pauses just before connecting with your nose.

You hadn’t even flinched. You take her fist in your hands and kiss it gently. She allows herself to fall into you, and you stiffen before sighing, wrapping your arms around her. The fight’s over. The loneliness is over.

The two of you eventually enter the school, oodles of students crowding around you. They’re welcoming you, worried about your safety, things they never did before. You clutch Ellie’s hand tightly, uttering an “I’m fine, thanks,” before taking her to the room you two share.

“That was…A lot,” Ellie says, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go shower,” you reply, seeming a little too perky.

“Wait!” she blurts, grabbing your arm. You jolt, not disguising the flash of pain fast enough.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab so hard.” Ellie’s eyes are wide with guilt and emotion, but you shake your head, getting a makeup wipe from the dresser and wiping off your arm. 

 

A bruise. Ellie looks from it to your face. Repeatedly. It takes a lot for her not to turn to a ball of seething rage, not that she’d give  _that_ away.  
  


“Training for the Brotherhood is a little different than training for the X-Men. They don’t play quite as nice.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you laugh it off, and she scowls.

“I’m not sorry for that, even if I do wanna pummel whoever did that. I’m- I’m sorry I haven’t said it yet.”

  
“It?”  
  


“Yeah, _it._ ”

There’s a flicker of hope in your eyes, but you fake confusion. You’re expecting to be let down, Ellie knows. You’re expecting what she’s made you expect. But, if there’s anything Ellie Phimister is good at, it’s defying expectations. She steps closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest, listening to your heart.  _Thump, thump, thump, thump,_  in time with the pounding sound she hears in her head in the seconds before she speaks:

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply softly, and she sighs at the same volume.   
  


“You smell nice,” she comments quietly.

“I smell like sweat and dirt and like I got my ass kicked,” you argue with a snicker.  
  


“You also smell like you,” she says almost silently, and you blush, speechless. She pulls away, reading your expression. “That was dumb, wasn’t it? I’m not good at this like you are, Y/N. Don’t think I ever will be.”

“You’re definitely good,” you respond in a squeaky, embarrassed tone. It didn’t take much, especially from the pint-sized girl in front of you, to fluster you. She takes your hand, holding it before raising it and pressing hers flat against it. The two of you inspect them together, you noting the similarities, her noting the differences, mentally. 

As you continue to do so, you’re distracted. The attention being away from her lips gives Ellie the courage to use them, getting on her toes to kiss your cheek. You turn a deep shade of red, and she decides it’s even more worth it to show her affection.

“I love you,” she hesitantly says again, and you beam.

Oh, yeah.  _So_  worth it.


End file.
